Fight
by Audrey Jenkins
Summary: They continued to get up in the morning, ready to fight another day. A collection of short stories between the Winchesters. No slash.
1. Failure

He had decided a long time ago that he would never tell anyone, especially Sam, about the guilt that ate him up inside. It was always there. Some days it festered inside him, alive and well in the pit of his stomach. Other days, the good days, he didn't think much of it and just accepted it as another adorable quirk of Dean Winchester. There were never any good days anymore.

The solution came to him one day. He had had too much to drink and as he stumbled drunkenly back into the motel room; he realized that he didn't hate himself so much as usual. The alcohol numbed him, like a narcotic drug.

And so that's how he began to drink away his guilt, which was no longer festering like a fungus in his belly, but more like pneumonia, filling him up with guilt leaving no room for forgiveness.

He knew that Sam worried about him (_"You're just a step away from alcoholism, Dean.")_, but Dean knew that Sam could not begin to understand the self loathing inside of him. There were years and years of failures just piled up inside of him like building blocks just waiting to spill over and break him, but God, the alcohol made it a little bit easier to deal with it. The alcohol gave the building blocks a stable foundation, making it possible to pile more shit on top of it.

And so, that's why he continued to drink even under the concerned gaze of his brother.

And so, that's why he continued to get up in the morning, ready to fight another day.


	2. Insomnia

It was one of those nights. Lucifer was counting backwards from 100,000 and there was nothing Sam couldn't do except lay on the motel bed and memorize the cracks in the ceiling. It was a long night. Just like all those other nights.

A loud creak came from across the room and Sam turned to the direction of the noise. It was Dean, moving around in his sleep. Sam could tell it was not a restful sleep. Dean's eyebrows were drawn together outlining the early wrinkles around Dean's eyes. He could see the tension in his face.

Unexpectedly, Dean breathed out a name. If Sam hadn't been paying attention he would never have heard it.

It was Jo's name.

After that, Dean didn't talk again. It occurred to Sam that both of them had to fight their own devils. For his brother, it was the guilt that came with the job. For him, it was mental illness. Sam tried again to fall back asleep but just then Lucifer resumed counting.

_74,765_

_74,764_

_74,763_

_74,762_

_74,761_

…


	3. Clothes

They're at the Laundromat and as Sam takes out his clothes from the drying machine he can't help but notice a shirt with holes scattered all over it. He holds up the shirt for his brother to inspect the damage.

"Do you think we should buy new clothes?" Sam asks.

Dean remembers the day when Sam bought the shirt. It had been years ago and had been one of those days where they tried to forget that Dean was going to hell and they shopped and ate burgers and drank beer, and forced smiles on their faces.

"No," said Dean.

A/N: Sorry for the late update. Don't know if it's good or not but hey, at least I wrote something. Review please! It makes me happy inside.


	4. Touch

At first, he doesn't touch him. He refuses to accept that Dean is dead.

However, after the body has gone cold, the blood has dried, and the sun has come up, he reaches for him. Gingerly, he runs his fingers over the leather jacket, now torn into shreds. Dean would've been devastated.

He grabs his hand, cold and stiff by now. The hand is terribly calloused. Sam can feel the blood and dirt embedded in Dean's fingernails. They're hands of a hunter.

Sam clings to him and just as he thinks he's ready to let go, he doesn't. Not yet.


	5. Denial

"You walk out that door…don't you _ever_ come back."

He finally understands now. He understands why his father said those exact words to Sam all those years ago. It was a last ditch attempt to get Sam to stay.

But he knows it won't work, because he only managed to make Sam angrier. Dean watches in horror as Sam gives him a last glare and a silent _fuck you_ and walks out the door.

_no. _

He wants to scream for Sam to come back, wants to douse Ruby with holy water, wants to tear the room apart. He wants to do so many things.

But all he does is lie there, feeling the bruises start to form.

_no._


	6. Mankind

It wasn't the first time that he felt his heart stop. Oh no, there were plenty of other times; more times than he can count on his fingers and toes. He wouldn't even know where to begin if he were to start counting.

A small whisper of a thought slithered through his brain. _He was going to lose Sam._ He was going to lose Sam and he needed to act fast. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he licked his lips nervously.

Sam was looking at him, eyes unfocused, eyes that could barely stay open. His hair plasters to his face and forehead, noticeably drenched with sweat. Everything about him screamed "_Crazy! Unstable!_" But that didn't matter right now, nothing mattered right now; because he was going to lose _Sam._

There was nothing to think over. This choice did not require a list of the pros and the cons, and a night to think and mull it over. The choice was made when Dean realized he could lose Sam again. He knew the salvation of all mankind rested on Sam Winchester's shoulders. It always seemed like the universe was intent and stubborn in wanting him dead. Well, the universe was a bitch. It seems like Mankind will have to suck it up and deal with demons for a while more.

**A/N: I don't know about you guys but that season finale killed me.**


End file.
